All posts by Sarah McGurk

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About Sarah McGurk

I am a veterinary surgeon and author, living and working in Scotland with my lovely Kooiker Triar.

Tractors and Turkey Dinners

Blog, Christmas, Food, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Writing, , , , ,

Last weekend, despite the storm, a group of us gathered at Donna’s for an afternoon of gin tasting. My favourite was a Marks and Spencer Clemantine gin liqueur with bits of gold leaf in it, that had a light bulb in the base of the bottle so that it lit up with a kind of snow globe effect. Happily, we were pouring our own drinks, which is good for me, as these days I am a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and a taste really is enough. Unfortunately, I didn’t realise the bottle lit up when I took my photo.

As the light faded outside, Donna told us that the annual Christmas Tractor and Truck Run would be passing by in the early evening. It’s an annual event, started by farmers, in aid of the neonatal unit at the local hospital. Every year, farmers and truck drivers decorate their vehicles and drive them from Lockerbie to Dumfries. So at around six in the evening, we braved the drizzle and went outside to watch as what seemed like hundreds of agricultural vehicles trundled past. It was an incredibly cheery event and lots of the drivers had brought their children along, so it felt like a lovely family occasion. It was also a wonderful reminder of how strong the farming community is in our area.

I had booked Thursday and Friday off, so it was a short working week. I worked mostly from home as I had some studying to do for an examination in Veterinary Public Health, which I sat (and happily passed) on Tuesday. The main reason I had planned the time off was because I belong to a writers’ group, which had a mini writing retreat booked for Thursday, so on Thursday morning, seven of us gathered in the library in Lockerbie to work on our stories. I don’t often mention writing any more on here as it’s been so slow in recent years, but I am approaching the half-way point of a novel about a vet on the west coast of Scotland. It’s set in the lead up to Christmas, so I’m working on it more-or-less daily right now. I know, from experience, that writing about Christmas in May is oddly discombobulating.

Progress is finally being made on my rooms upstairs. This week the plasterer has been in most days and now, one of the bedrooms is really starting to take shape. It’s been very cheering to have him in the house. He’s obviously happy at his work as he plays music and sings along to it as he’s working, which Triar and ai have enjoyed. His rendition of How Much Is That Doggy In The Window was a real blast from the past! Later today, I shall go and buy some paint. It really does feel that things are moving along.

My car went in for its MOT yesterday and happily, it passed with no more work to be done. I had booked to go out for lunch with Donna, who drove out to The Boathouse at Glencaple, which is couple of miles outside Dumfries on the bank of the Nith. The setting is stunning and, with the winter sun being low in the sky, despite the clouds, there was a real golden glow over the landscape.

I had hoped for a Christmas menu and wasn’t disappointed. Having quickly convinced Donna that a sharing platter of festive goodies was the way to go, the waiter somehow or other managed to persuade us that what we really wanted was a sharing platter each! Despite the fact that it somewhat missed the point of being a sharing platter, we were soon tucking into turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, pigs in blankets and sprouts, with cranberry sauce. We had to ask for more gravy, but the waiter was fortunately very obbliging. Of course, there was way too much food, so the eventual outcome was that I brought home a good sized box of leftovers, so yesterday evening, I had my first turkey sandwich of the year and today, I still have another full Chrismas dinner to eat.

And as a final note, I should mention that Triar has also been getting ready for Christmas. Every year, he gets a new Kong bear as a present. In the old days, he used to destroy these relatively quickly, but at six years old, he has learned the art of toy preservation. I was starting to be concerned that we might get to Christmas with Bear still relatively intact, but I should have known Triar was merely becoming a master of timing.

So thank you for reading. Have a good week all!

Hot Drinks and Formal Meetings

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, , , , , ,

It’s been an odd kind of week. Foremost in my mind, as I write this, is my car. I put it in for an MOT and service on Monday, then received a message that before the MOT could begin, I should get new tyres put on the back of the car. I was surprised as it had new tyres put on less than a year ago when I bought it. It seems that the new tyres were put on without the tracking being corrected, even though I specifically asked for that to be done.

I thought perhaps, it having been a year, that I had knocked the tracking off somehow, but when the BMW garage tried to adjust it, it wasn’t possible as the parts had seized. In addition, though only two tyres were worn, they were not the standard tyres for my car and the line had been discontinued. So four new tyres and a lot of money later, I am now able to put my car back in for its MOT. I hope they don’t find anything else wrong. It’s a reminder though, that buying cars is a minefield and that even garages with a good reputation can fail to carry out the checks they ought to.

Having not had my car, I haven’t been out on many visits this week, which is a shame as the weather has been beautiful, if a little chilly. While lots of you in the U.K. have had snow, we’ve just had beautiful, clear, frosty days. It has been so cold that the head of field services in Scotland has decreed that, should we be out more than five hours on any visit, in addition to the £7 we are allowed to claim for lunches, we can reclaim £3 extra for having bought a hot drink. Sadly, I can’t take advantage of this generous offer as I haven’t been on any long visits.

On Thursday I had a formal meeting with my line manager about my attendance. Having had five days off back in July, for neurological issues, and two days off for a cold a couple of weeks back, it seems I hit a “consideration point” for my attendance. I was shocked to find that, in the U.K. civil service, this kicks in after only six days absence in any twelve month period. Six days!
The letter I received was unpleasant. It said, amongst other things:

“One of the purposes of the meeting is to enable me to consider whether to give you a
Written Improvement Warning. We will also consider whether any of the reasons for not
issuing one apply in your circumstances. Following our meeting, I will decide whether or
not you should be given a Written Improvement Warning. I must remind you that if I do
this and your attendance level does not improve within the specified timescale, your
employment with […] could be affected.”

While my line manager had assured me this was merely procedure he had to follow, it was still a kick in the teeth. Back in Norway, I was on a temporary contract when these neuro problems hit and eventually I lost my job because of it. I then spent some time in the wilderness, unable to get another job in the area, as the vet world was so small that everyone in the locality knew I had unresolved problems. (That said, my entire Arctic adventure was triggered by this, so good did come of it). However, I swore to myself I would never, ever put myself back in the position where I was likely to lose my job if my health went downhill again, so this whole experience felt unsettling.

Because of my concern, I did contact my union, who were very reassuring. The rep suggested I should ask for the neuro week off to be discounted from my six day consideration point. Having a five day absence in July meant that even one day’s absence before next July would trigger another letter and meeting. In the event, that didn’t happen, but instead, HR have agreed that my consideration point should be raised to twelve days instead of six. I hope I don’t need them, but having worked three days from bed last time I was unwell, for fear of triggering this kind of event, it’s good to know I have a couple of days grace, should I need it before July.

Last week, I only posted about the first half of my holiday. The second half was just as enjoyable. It was a gentle week, with morning tours, lunch out, then restful afternoons back in the cosy cottage. On Wednesday, we went to Egglestone Abbey, which looked glorious in the late autumn sunshine. Those monks certainly picked a beautiful place to build their home!

Thursday saw us visiting High Force waterfall, which was spectacular.

Friday morning was spent exploring the grounds of Raby Castle.

All in all, it was a good week, though I may have to take a shorter trip next year, to see the gardens we visited in their full spring or summer glory.

Anyway, if you’re in the U.K. and you’ve woken to some weather (freezing rain, driven by wind here from an inspection through the window) stay warm. I wish you a good week, and thanks for reading.

From Locos to Roses

Blog, Holiday, Requests, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, , , , , , , , , ,

When I was young, going on holiday always involved trains. Not that we always travelled to our destination on one, but we did, almost invariably see some steam locomotives. Sometimes this would be a mountain railway or a rebuilt section of the old network, sometimes it was in a museum. I have long known that Mallard set the steam speed record at 126mph as her sleek lines were to be seen in York Railway Museum and at university, I was briefly to be found trainspotting in Waverley Station when I wasn’t off on a trip somewhere with a club of train enthusiasts.

So when I was asked, last Sunday evening, what we should do the next morning, I already had my answer ready. We were going to visit Locomotion museum in Shildon. There were trains galore and also a cafe, so something for everyone! It’s a big site and we didn’t get all the way round, but we did explore both the original building, which was filled with old passenger trains and the new one, which was dedicated to industry and freight, as well as vehicles for mending and maintaining the tracks in all weathers.

There is some beautiful rolling stock, from an old horse drawn rail carriage to a former Royal train, and from Stephenson’s Rocket (which won a competition, in 1829, to run on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway – the world’s first inter-city passenger railway line) to the Flying Scotsman, which 100 years later, ran from London to Edinburgh and is officially, the first locomotive to reach 100mph.

What struck me most was the quality and workmanship that used to go into building those trains. The shiny paint and intricate shapes are so much more attractive than the modern, soulless units that run around the network nowadays.

The second shed was all about practicality. Early wooden coal trucks and massive snow ploughs stood alongside freight containers for everything from cattle to wartime tanks.

On Tuesday we went to Wynyard Hall Gardens. Famous for its roses, it wasn’t the best time of year for a visit. Nonetheless, there were still some lovely blooms and a few autumn leaves were clinging to the trees in the landscaped grounds.

And I’m going to leave it there for now. Sadly we have to leave the lovely farm cottage that’s been home for the past week at 10am, so breakfast and packing will have to take precedence, but I’ll leave you with a lovely encounter at the window on Tuesday afternoon. As always, thanks for reading.

Down on the Farm

Blog, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, , , , ,

A Sunday afternoon entry this week. Yesterday Mum, Dad, Triar and I travelled to Teeside to a farm stay cottage. It’s a lovely place with cosy stone houses and stables, a cobbled yard and plenty of animals. I took Triar for a tramp on the moors at seven thirty this morning and we came home hungry for breakfast. Morning coffee came later. The cheesecake looked delicious, but having been mostly off sugar for a few months, it was a bit too much. Next time, it’ll have to be a cheese scone instead!

The farm is gorgeous! It’s also a lovely novelty to be able to take pictures without worrying that I’m giving away classified information. The owners are very friendly and, with permission, we explored the farm this afternoon.

As well as finishing cattle…

…there are chickens…

…a traditional brace of guard geese…

…and a collie that never got the memo about herding cats.

To be fair, I’m not entirely sure this cat is taking this game seriously.

As you can probably tell, I’m enjoying my holiday so far. We stopped at The George for lunch yesterday. It’s a 16th C coaching inn, though I suspect the food styling has changed a bit in the intervening centuries. Who knew that Halloween themed fish would be a thing?

I selected the delicious sea bass with roasted vegetables. Mum chose Yorkshire pudding steak pie on a bed of buttery mash. Mine was definitely the right choice as I enjoyed every last bit, while the (probably equally yummy) pie was a bit too big. The George is within easy driving distance of the farm, so I’m hoping to go back.

Hope you enjoyed the pictures. Have a good week all.

A Cosy Dales Weekend

Blog, Christmas, Food, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Yorkshire Dales, , , , ,

I had a lovely break down in Yorkshire last weekend. As I mentioned last week, Triar and I went down to Mum and Dad’s on the train. It’s getting dark earlier now, so it was lovely to arrive and warm ourselves in front of the fire. Triar’s rug was already in place and he was soon sleeping beside the warming gas flames.

On Saturday, we walked into town to buy food for Sunday dinner and on the way, I saw some small bedside cabinets in a second hand furniture shop. We went home to fetch the car and returned to buy them. Not that my bedrooms upstairs are close to being finished yet, but when they are, I now have somewhere to put the bedside lamps I haven’t bought yet!

After a fish and salad lunch (I stole some chips from Mum and Dad, but stuck to the Second Nature principle of ordering something a bit healthier) we went home. I had suggested to Mum that our main task for the weekend should be making Christmas puddings, so she had bought in most of the ingredients. We stopped at Booths (surely the cosiest of supermarkets?) and added some chopped roasted hazelnuts to the list, as well as the raisins that had been unavailable when she did her main shop.

I used my own Christmas pudding recipe (here) though as usual these days, I substituted the alcohol content for whatever was available at the time, which this year was spiced rum!

Everyone had a stir, then we left the wonderful spicy mixture in the fridge overnight, and Triar and I went out for a walk to enjoy the autumn sunshine. It was a stunning day. I had perhaps missed the absolute height of the autumn colour, but it was beautiful and I was glad to capture it before all the leaves had fallen.

Another evening in front of the fire and we watched some early episodes of Shetland on the TV, back when Perez was still in his cottage in the centre of Lerwick. Another sleep with Triar curled up on my feet, then it was Sunday. It had been a little cloudy overnight and there was a heavy dew, but no frost.

Triar seemed to be enjoying looking out as much as I did,

As well as steaming the Christmas puddings, I prepared a chicken and vegetables for dinner (which my parents eat at lunchtime) and we sat down early as Triar and I had a train to catch.

And then we were on the train back to Scotland, with a two hour wait in Carlisle, when Triar used his charm on everyone he saw to pass the time.

And showed off his favourite trick.

I’m not sure where I picked up the virus, or whether it was that chilly two hours in Carlisle that tipped me over the edge, but by the time I walked and drove back from the station in the evening, I was starting to feel ropy and by Monday morning it was obvious I’d come down with the lurgy. I’m now much better, though bored of coughing having finally succumbed to taking time off to rest on Thursday and Friday. Had I still been in Norway, I would have taken the whole week off, but I worked from home Monday to Wednesday and at least all my paperwork is now up to date.

Yesterday evening, Donna invited me round for pizza and some of Aldi’s Christmas range which, with Halloween over, they are beginning to launch. She welcomed me despite the coughing, for which I am very grateful. Today, Triar and I are joining Donna and Will and their dogs in a Doggy Field for a good run, so I’d better go and get ready.

Thank you for reading. By this time next week, I’ll be on holiday and preparing for our journey to Teeside. Hope you have a good week.

Autumn Sunrises

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , ,

The storm came last Sunday, as forecast. It wailed around the thick walls of my snug little house and wuthered in the chimney. Despite having no doors on the rooms upstairs, my living room stayed warm and cosy. I grew up in houses where the central heating was in minimal use and one room was kept warm with a fire, so it was nothing new. With Triar snuggling on his sheepskin rug beside me, we weathered the storm in comfort.

Triar seems to have recovered well, for which I am enormously thankful. I was out with a colleague from the local authority on Wednesday. He also lives alone with his dog and we discussed how much a dog becomes part of your life when it’s just you and them. My morning walks down Blackbird Lane are shared with Triar and without him, I might never have walked there. More than anything else, those walks help me stay centred and because Triar enjoys exploring all the scents under the hedgerows, we take our time. As he sniffs around, I enjoy the birdsong.

Wednesday was a particularly beautiful morning, calm at sunrise, with mist rising over the fields and the birds were in full song. It’s a while since I used my Merlin App, but the Dawn chorus was so beautiful that I pulled the phone out of my pocket and switched it on. As well as the inevitable blackbirds, sparrows and robin (his sweet little song always lifts my heart) I picked up the song thrush that breaks snails on my patio, a long tailed tit and a goldcrest, among other things.

I took some photos too… of course I did!

Despite knowing I had a potentially difficult day ahead, there was a true moment of peace, there in Blackbird Lane.

I’m not sure whether it’s the time of year, or whether it’s the fact that the other vet that works with me has been seconded to another department, but the welfare referrals have gone crazy in the last two weeks. My lovely line manager has been away, so these were passed on by other managers from another region and I think there were seven of them altogether. Wednesday’s sounded most urgent and there’s at least one that (in my opinion) isn’t an indicator of poor welfare at all, but it is overwhelming.

When I say it might be the time of year, several of them came from slaughterhouses. As winter approaches, the farmers send off their old stock that will struggle through the cold weather, so inevitably those include animals with problems. Part of my job involves reminding farmers that welfare doesn’t end on the farm, but needs to continue until the end of the animal’s life. If it isn’t fit to travel, or perhaps it is, but shouldn’t go far, then they need to work out whether it should be taken to a local abattoir, or culled on the farm without going anywhere.

Too many farmers rely on someone coming to collect their cull cows and “organize all that,” when they should be making the arrangements themselves. Difficult to change the mindset, when that’s what they’ve always done but it’s a discussion I’ll be having a lot. Getting the best price for the meat or taking the most convenient path shouldn’t be the standard. Given the animal has given them the best part of its life, its welfare in death should be given decent consideration. If taking that cow with overgrown hooves to the local abattoir saves them from me and the local authority turning up to inspect all their animals and paperwork, that’s surely a good thing? Even if that’s their only incentive, I try to make it count.

Anyway, it’s almost breakfast time, so I shall wind this up. Triar and I came down to Yorkshire yesterday evening on the train. It’s not too expensive and as winter comes in, it might be more relaxing than driving, so we gave it a try. Luckily, Triar is an old hand on trains now. Here he is, under the table.

Have a good week all. Thanks for reading.

Before the Storm

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

There were two beautiful mornings in Blackbird Lane the week before last that I want to share with you. I took the photo at the top of the page and the one below on Monday the 7th.

Mist hung above the fields, but the light was beautiful, catching the wonderful clarity of the raindrops, left there by a shower.

Four days later, it was frosty and again, I couldn’t resist taking photographs in the sparkling morning light.

I was taken out for a driver training course on the Thursday. The instructor asked why I was there. I must have triggered something when I answered some questions at work about my driving, but the only one I can think of was that I said I drive when I’m tired. If anyone working in field services (as I do) said they never drive when tired, they are not being entirely truthful. After a long day on a physical job on a farm, we all have to get home. That’s just how it is. Anyway I drove the instructor to Tebay service station and had a coffee and a pie, then drove her back. She says I’m a good driver, so no complaints about that one!

Last Sunday, I met an old friend from university and had a meal with him in Lockerbie. We then decided to go and look at a section of the west side of Hadrian’s wall, as it wasn’t too far away. It’s an impressive sight, even now: well constructed and taller than I am, so I couldn’t see over it. It was originally four metres high when it was built almost 2000 years ago. It must have been very commanding and Hadrian must have been very alarmed by all the evil Scots!

This week has been a real mixed bag. I was meant to be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today, to do some bluetongue surveillance, but on Tuesday, I was told that there was tracing work to be done here in Scotland and I couldn’t be spared. I was a bit frustrated as I was looking forward to getting away and doing some outbreak work.

The high point of my week was on Tuesday, when I visited a vet practice for a routine inspection over Wigtown way. It went well and I decided to spend lunchtime in a cafe in Wigtown called ReadingLasses. They had run out of soup and were only serving coffee and cake, so I chose a coffee and martini cake, which really was as delicious as it looks. Wigtown is also Scotland’s book town, as I’ve mentioned before, and as you can see in the photo below, and maybe guessed from its name, ReadingLasses was filled with books by and about women. I read the first two chapters of a book about crofting life with my cake and will definitely return for the following two next time I’m over that way.

Thursday wasn’t so good. I woke up and found that Triar’s breathing was not right. He was obviously struggling a bit, needing more effort to breathe out than was normal. I had woken at six and the vet didn’t open until 8:30 – he wasn’t bad enough to warrant an out of hours call – so I had a frightening couple of hours, during which my lovely friend Lara called me and calmed me down, talking through what to do.

By some miracle, the vet Triar knows had an appointment at 8:45, so I rushed Triar there. I think he has some kind of inflammation in his lungs, or pneumonia, but don’t know what’s causing it. He’s had a steroid injection and is doing a bit better, but for now, I’m waiting and monitoring and hoping he goes in the right direction. Lung problems in dogs can be difficult to diagnose and treat. This is the one time I wish I was working in practice, as I would do way more tests, though of course that can also cause more problems. Patience is very hard though and the realization of how precious he is to me was brought home by the wave of emotion. I was no use for work on Thursday morning and fortunately, my manager was very understanding.

So after all, I am very grateful to not be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today. Triar and I will have a quiet weekend together. The weather warnings say there’s a storm on the way, so we will shelter together here and hope for better things next week.

The Shetland Files

Blog, Food, Holiday, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, , , , , , , , , ,

I had a wonderful week in Shetland. It’s the first time I have visited. Years ago, I might have been daunted by the idea of an overnight ferry, but having travelled on two with Triar, almost a year ago, I was looking forward to it. I had booked a cabin as I wanted a good night’s sleep at the start of my holiday. I retreated there early and spent a comfortable night cocooned in a warm bed as the boat carried me north.

I walked to Lindsay’s house in the morning, where she had cooked me a wonderful breakfast. The house is lovely, warm and welcoming like Lindsay herself, and with an amazing view over the sea. It was at Lindsay’s suggestion that I had decided to go to the Wool Week festival, though my plans had evolved as I had contacted an old friend, who had invited me to stay on her croft on Whalsay. So Melanie joined us, just as Lindsay and I were about to eat and we left together soon afterwards, having arranged to meet Lindsay and the friends who were coming to stay with her, on Wednesday.

The last time I saw Melanie was in 1986. We attended a huge comprehensive school together and mostly met up in the music room and singing in choirs at Christmas concerts. What a strange feeling it was to meet someone at 55 that I hadn’t seen since we were 17, but wonderful all the same. Soon we were catching up on ancient history and all the years in between and it was a great start to my holiday.

She drove me to Jarlshof – an ancient dwelling place, where people had lived from about 5-6,000 years ago, right up until the 1600s. Ancient brochs were superseded by Norse longhouses when the Vikings arrived. Later there was a laird’s house, parts of which were still standing. It would take years to begin to understand the site, but it was fascinating to walk round, trying to imagine those primitive lives, huddling through the long dark winters, before the arrival of glass windows, central heating and electric lights.

We then went to the ruined St Ninian’s Church on St Ninian’s Isle – almost an island, but connected to the mainland by a “sand tombolo” – which is a sandy beach with sea on both sides.

As we headed towards the Whalsay Ferry, it started to rain and a rainbow formed over the landscape, which felt like an omen for a good week to come.

I expected to enjoy writing this entry – and I am as I had a wonderful week – but it struck me as. I paused to make coffee, that back when I left school in 1986, it was stupendously unlikely that I would have caught up with Melanie again. I liked her very much, but we had never been close “at each other’s houses” friends.

Back then, unless you kept up with someone’s address or landline, there was no way to keep in contact. I moved, because my parents moved, and then I went to university. I kept in touch with one friend – Sharon Dickson. We shared a flat for a year at uni. But other than that, it was unlikely I’d catch up with anyone else. If you moved, life moved on. You met new people, only keeping in touch with the closest of friends by phone or letter.

Though the internet is officially understood to have been created in 1983, that’s not something we would have heard of. When I was at school, most of the upper classes (there were 14 classes, each with 30 pupils in my year, so we were streamed) would not have taken “secretarial studies”. Ironic to look back at how that subject was viewed as secondary, as learning to type would have been tremendously useful.

After the internet became more widespread in the early 2000s, I had contact from two “early adopters” who got in touch through Friends Reunited, but until Facebook came along in 2004 (eighteen years after I left school) it was stupendously unlikely I would have accidentally bumped in to Melanie. We both left the town we grew up in far behind. So I guess I have Mark Zuckerberg and co to thank for the way things have turned out.

Having lived in various northern and remote places, I was interested to see what Shetland life was like. As I mentioned before, Melanie lives in a croft on Whalsay, one of the islands that is connected to the Shetland mainland by a ferry. Every time we crossed to the mainland, life was punctuated by that half hour journey.

The time we got up was related to which ferry we would catch. If you didn’t book the ferry, there might not be space and you might have to wait for the next. I was incredibly glad I was being driven around by someone who knew exactly how the whole thing worked, but that punctuation of life – ruled by the comings and goings of a boat – is very different from anywhere I’ve lived.

The croft itself was beautiful: a lovely warm home in that austere landscape, where trees don’t grow, but the sea is all around and the yellowing autumn grass was bounded by drystone walls. There were animals too: otters and seals in the sea, ponies, sheep and goats on the land.

As befits a croft, Melanie and her husband own about twenty sheep. Her husband has part ownership of a sophisticated fishing boat too, and as the week went by, I was privileged to share some traditional food, including a kind of stew of mutton chops, eaten with bannocks – scones cooked on a griddle, rather than in the oven, and also some of the fish caught from the boat. The mutton is served on the island at weddings and it was delicious. Melanie’s husband is a very good cook.

I took some photos of the changing light as the days passed and it was impossible not to fall in love with the place where Melanie has built her life.

Melanie, I and her friend Claire, went out to a few of the classes that made up Wool Week. There were so many of them, and I can’t knit or crochet, but Melanie booked three for us, the first stitching with wool, the second, felting and the third was called Weaving the Landscape.

I haven’t finished the stitching project. It was impossible to do so in the afternoon lesson. I brought back wool though and, if I can borrow an embroidery ring and needles from my mum, I may be able to finish it. The felting class was fabulous. We made otters, and though mine is not anatomically perfect, I was very pleased with my efforts.

Weaving the landscape was also utterly engrossing. It took me all day to create a tiny two inch cloth, but hopefully you can see how inspired I was by the sunset photos of rising mist over the lochan beside the croft.

We met up with Lindsay at the mart on Wednesday , where the sale of Shetland ponies was under way. After that, Melanie and I had lunch with Lindsay and her friends. It was a lovely relaxed occasion. Who could have imagined what 4,000 guineas worth of tiny horse looked like?

All too soon though, the week was over. The weather changed on the last day. I don’t know if you have watched the series, Shetland, but there is a shot in the opening titles, I think, where a small piece of plastic, caught on barbed wire, flutters frantically in the wind, This is my version of that shot! I think the sheets might have dried quickly, even though the temperature had dropped.

The boat was due to leave at five thirty in the afternoon, so I spent a last day with Melanie touring parts of the island. I bought souvenirs and ate the most enormous plate of cod and chips in a cafe in Lerwick.

All too soon, it was time to get back on the boat. I took a few, precious last shots as we sailed away from Lerwick, but my abiding memories are of the warmth of my welcome to the islands and my desire is to go back next year, and do it all again. Thank you Lindsay, for encouraging me to go to Shetland, and most importantly, thank you Melanie for a wonderful week.

Criffel, Scone, Dunsinane and Castlerigg

Blog, Hillwalking, Holiday, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, , , , , , ,

This post is filled with photos and is more than a week late. I have been away on holiday in Shetland and didn’t manage to post this a week ago on Friday or Saturday because there wasn’t great internet where Inwas staying on Friday night and I was travelling all of the next day. I’m home now, so will do my best to fill in a bit of information between the pictures I had already downloaded.

The first pictures are of Criffel, which I walked up with Triar. At 569m, starting near sea level, it was on the ambitious side for me. Indeed when I saw the above view, I felt I had bitten off more than I could chew, but I decided to give it a go. After all, I could always stop half way up…

Reader, I could not stop! There were good views over the Solway, though it was too cloudy/misty to see over to the Lake District. Perhaps I will try it again sometime on a clearer day.

I thought going down would be easier and, at first, it was. By the time 8 was three quarters of the way down, I was wondering if I was going to make it. My legs were so tired they were beginning to malfunction and there was a very real possibility of falling on my face, but I made it there and back without doing that, and of that I am very pleased.

After that there was another trip to Perth to learn about veterinary risk assessments. I met Sue again and this time, we went for a scone at Scone.

Triar thought he’d try his paw at being King of Scotland, but this is only a replica Stone of Scone, and anyway, I didn’t have a crown, so for now, we’re stuck with King Charles.

Despite being autumnal, there were some very pleasing parts of the gardens at Scone Palace.

On Tuesday, now on historical Scottish kings, Sue suggested we should climb Dunsinane Hill, to visit Macbeth, so we did. Again, it wasn’t the best weather, but it was an interesting hilltop with a flat peak where you could see there had been walls and structures in the past, though there wasn’t a great deal left. The views were wonderful though and it must have been a great lookout post.

Wednesday saw me driving back to Dumfries, where I had a day and a half of whirlwind work, trying to ensure I had everything vital done before heading off on holiday.

On Friday, I drove down to Yorkshire to drop off Triar at Mum and Dad’s. We wandered into the Lake District on the way down, to visit Castlerigg Stone Circle, which was lovely, but relatively busy for a non-weekend in late September. I guess to find it really quiet, I may have to try at dawn on a chilly Tuesday in February.

Anyway, that’s it for now. I shall post about my Shetland trip next week. I did so much that it will take some time to write the post. Suffice it to say, I had a wonderful week, catching up with old friends and making some new ones, while learning a whole load the crofting life in Shetland and making some interesting things out of wool.

Have a good week all!

From Crewe to Kirkconnell Flow

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I seem to be in a perpetual state of travel at the moment. After Perth, I had a night in Airth, then down to Yorkshire, and from Yorkshire, I headed directly to Crewe, not having spent a single night in my own bed. Luckily in Crewe, I was staying in a Premier Inn. I guess some would find their ubiquity boring, but I rather like knowing exactly what the room will be like, and what’s on the breakfast menu, even if I’ve never been to that particular hotel before.

This week’s training was on dealing with outbreaks of notifiable disease, with particular attention to bird flu, or avian influenza, as it’s called officially. It was quite sobering to hear the accounts of a couple of vets who arrived two years before me, and found themselves dealing with outbreak cases within a few weeks of arriving. That must have been a baptism of fire, given all the kit you have to wear, including hoods that cover your entire head and blow air over your face and require you to keep an eye on the battery levels if you’re in the sheds too long.

There was a day of practical training, out on a chicken farm. I’ve seen lots of broilers before – chickens bred for meat – so I was interested to see this one, which had laying hens. Though the hens were all inside, so not free range, they were not in cages, which I was glad about. Unlike the broilers, who were mostly on the floor, with a few perches and “toys” to interact with if they wanted, these hens were much more energetic and had different levels to walk on and metal bars to navigate across. It seemed a relatively good environment to me.

We saw some chickens being euthanized. It wasn’t particularly pleasant to watch, though the aim is to have high welfare throughout the process – hopefully actually higher than they would have in a slaughterhouse. There are various roles I might have to take if I go out to a notifiable disease case and one is the Welfare Vet. It’s important that I know the correct way everything should be done.

It wouldn’t necessarily be a big, commercial farm either. If I had to deal with someone’s pet chickens, I would want to be able to explain to them about what might happen, to prepare them for what they might see, just as I used to do when I euthanized people’s dogs when I was in practice. Dying doesn’t always look peaceful, even when there is no suffering involved.

We also carried out some post mortems. If I’m first on the scene, I have to be capable of carrying out some basic diagnostic procedures. Ultimately, all notifiable diseases will be diagnosed via tests sent to an official laboratory, but if I can rule out notifiable disease without it getting that far, it can save a lot of disruption. It can take twenty four hours for the tests to come back and until then, depending on which disease is suspected, movement restrictions will be in place, not just for the farm we’re on, but potentially for a large area surrounding that. With suspicion of foot and mouth, the whole country might potentially be brought to a standstill, so it’s incredibly important that the key vet is competent and backed up with a competent team.

At some point, I will be sent out to a report case where there is suspicion of a notifiable disease. While I know it will be daunting when it does happen, I feel better prepared now than I was before.

I finally got home on Thursday and have spent the last two nights in my own bed. As my friend Lara can confirm, I only own super-comfortable beds, so being home is always pretty nice! On my way up the road from Yorkshire, I stopped at Gretna Outlet to buy myself a new weekend happiness kit.

Though it wasn’t the weekend yet, Triar and I went out to Kirkconnell Flow Nature Reserve last night to start breaking my new boots in, ready for some more Perthshire hills next week. Kirkconnell flow is an ancient, raised, peat bog. Very rare apparently and stunningly beautiful yesterday evening in the golden light. We walked along the edge and through the forest, which reminded me of the forests in the north of Norway, with their tall pines and smaller silver birches sheltering underneath.

I was enjoying it so much that we did the outer circuit first and then the shorter inner circuit. I have a walk planned for today as well. Nothing too strenuous and good, well marked paths so getting lost is not possible. It’s about time I started exploring Dumfries and Galloway on foot and not just in my car.

Thank you for reading. I hope you have a good week.